Jeremy G. Pippin » music

I am the bored man…

Jeremy — Mon, 01 Oct 2007 17:22:41 +0000

Mystery solved.

I looked it up, and the correct way to spell the phrase that follows “I am the walrus” is…

WAIT! Think about this. If you would like to go on believing that the correct spelling is “koo-koo-kajoo” or whatever your brain has idly cooked up, do not click the link below. This is a life-changing decision; don’t be too hasty.

I am the walrus, I am the walrus… [spoiler]goo goo g’joob.
[/spoiler]

No, seriously. I checked like five lyric sites.

What did you idiots think it was, “coo-coo-kachoo?” That’s just stupid. Ha-ha, ha-ha, heh…

Ahem.

Oh, and before you scoff at me for not having known this, and inform me that you’ve known the correct spelling since you were old enough to write, I would like to point out that that makes you the freak, not me.

Dear Bass Fanatic

Jeremy — Fri, 02 Mar 2007 21:08:00 +0000

I pulled up to a stoplight today, and was surprised (as anyone would be) to find my bowels loosening. On further inspection, I found that my teeth were chattering as well, and my brainwaves were being forced into a subtle rhythm that made me slightly nauseated.

Heeeeey-Ya.

It was the Escalade (surprise!) stopped next to me at the stoplight. At first I assumed that there was something horribly awry in the engine compartment, but then I realized that the driver seemed to be actually enjoying the testicle-shrivelling rhythm. So…

Dear Bass Fanatic: I want you to know that I’m saying this because I care. About my own reproductive organs, of course, but also about your musical deprivation, because I’m such a philanthropist.

There is a whole world of notes out there – entire octaves – that you are missing out on. And not just notes, either, oh no; lyrics, too.

Maybe your stereo was installed improperly. Maybe nobody ever told you that that little knobs marked “BASS” and “VOL” actually turn – counterclockwise – to produce an entire world of musical possibilities that don’t make your fellow male motorists feel like they’re constantly on the freefall ride at Six Flags.

I implore you to experiment with these knobs…. before your bassline ruptures my spleen.

Love,

Pip

Summertime inquiry

Jeremy — Wed, 28 Jun 2006 00:10:55 +0000

Bradley can’t answer, but maybe somebody else can: Exactly what are the qualifications necessary to represent the LBC? And don’t they take your qualifications away if they find out that your woman spreads her lovin’ all over and you don’t do anything about it?

An ode to NIN

Jeremy — Thu, 11 May 2006 00:28:00 +0000

I’m hearing your song
On the line
Keep getting it on 101.9
I turn the dial
My surprise
That crap is also blaring out of 98.5.

Just how long does it have to be?
Goes until my ears both bleed.
Please expand your vocabulary.
No, Trent, seriously.
How many times does this repeat?
Will you please change it?

Just how long does it have to be?
Goes until my ears both bleed. (132x)

PC Quest? Anyone? Anyone?

Jeremy — Fri, 24 Mar 2006 21:19:09 +0000

Am I the only one that remembers the early ’90s band PC Quest? It was two guys, one girl, and… I’m not sure about the little one. They produced that song “After the Summer’s Gone” in which a 12-year-old kid sings about the soul-shattering tragedy of star-crossed love:

I’ll be missing you, after September, I’ll be wanting you, so always remember how I loved you, girl, after the summer’s gone. Oooooooo ahhhhhhh! (Didn’t every song from the early ’90s end with ooooooo, ahhhhhh?)

I seem to be the only one who remembers these scrawny fuckers, which doesn’t do wonders for alpha-male status claim. In my defense, I only bought the albums because I wanted to plug the chick.

Album! I meant album. I didn’t buy more than one album, because that would be very unmanly. Which means I certainly don’t know the song “Can’t You See” by heart.

Nobody remembers this? PC Quest, with the… oh, screw you guys.

UPDATE: Just to prove to you bastards that I didn’t make this up, I tracked down the original song. Ha! I told you! After The Summer’s Gone (streaming) I really must get a life. There must be one laying around here somewhere…